Be But Sworn My Love
by Mayushii
Summary: What happens after the tragedy, is the healing. A story played out in three acts. Hiei/Kurama, Hiei/OC. All warnings posted inside.


Be But Sworn My Love

by Mayushii

All copyright materials are property of their respective owners.

A/N: I received some lovely reviews for my fics recently, and they have helped lift my spirits a bit in light of real-life events. As thanks, I now present the first act of a story I've been working on this past week. Enjoy.

**WARNINGS: Male/male pairing, sex (more graphic in future chapters), original characters, past character deaths, non-standard treatment of rape, and depictions of crimes against humanity. **In other words, yes, there is a reason this story is rated M. The one warning that_ doesn't_ go here is tragedy, because at its heart this story isn't meant to be a tragedy; rather, it's meant to show what happens _afterward_. I'm hoping I managed to convey that idea and that I have handled all questionable subject matter in a tasteful way.**  
**

* * *

**Act I**

Hiei was alone.

His last friend in the human world had died fifteen years ago, but by that point Hiei had all but forgotten they existed. When he heard of Kurama's death, it didn't give him that feeling of horror he'd gotten when he was told about Yusuke's death years before. It didn't give him the miserable, sluggish depression he'd gotten from Kuwabara's passing, either.

Sometime after Yusuke and Kuwabara bit it, Mukuro had said he was "going cold" and asked him to go visit the friends he had left. Hiei had refused. He didn't want to see Kurama. Kurama would look like an old man—an old married man with all the kids and grandkids his dear dead mother could have asked of him. The very thought repulsed Hiei. So he had lost touch with his once beloved friend, and he had moved on with his life. Taken Mukuro as a bride, spent years promoting peace in the demon world. Lost Mukuro to an assassin's poison, and with her death came the revolution Hiei had worked so hard to stave off.

By the time Kurama finally kicked the bucket, Hiei had been fighting in these senseless wars for over three years. And when one of Hiei's messengers ran up to him and said in a solemn, respectful voice that Kurama had passed on, Hiei had been…less than reverent.

Hiei stabbed his sword through a demon and pulled it out, watching the blood gush out without the least bit of satisfaction. That peaceful, almost humane life he had built for himself, gone. Replaced with eighteen years of pointless battles. Killing a few nameless demons should have made him feel better, but it didn't. Nothing did.

Wiping his sword clean, Hiei stood up a little straighter and surveyed the battlefield. Gaping holes had been blasted into the tall outer walls of the camp, and the dirty hovels where the humans had been kept were in plain view. Quite a few of the prisoners had been killed at the last minute in a failed attempt to destroy the evidence. Hiei could see bodies everywhere—piled into carts that had never made it to the crematory fires.

He tried to make himself care. He tried to be appalled over the human torture, or to feel proud for having liberated the few survivors.

He felt nothing but detachment.

"Hiei, I think it's over," said…whoever it was that had replaced Kion. He had never asked his new second-in-command for his name, since it seemed every time he bothered to learn someone's name they died within a week. "Should we start looking for survivors?"

"Do what you like," Hiei sighed, sheathing his sword and walking away.

The white-haired demon waved his arm and called for a bunch of Hiei's troops to accompany. Hiei ignored them all. He especially ignored the whispered comments. "It's like he doesn't care." "He's been like that for a long time." "Still mourning his lost love and all that." "Like we all haven't lost someone…" "Hey, cut the guy some slack. He's got a lot on his plate."

As soon as he was alone, Hiei picked up the nearest corpse. He didn't bother to look to see if it was one of the demon enemies or one of the humans he had failed to save. He simply lifted it up and beat the wretched thing until it was a bloody, unrecognizable pulp.

* * *

_It was raining the day Yusuke died._

_The usual storms that marked the wet season were going strong, creating floods that swept away anything in their path. But when Hiei heard the news of his friend's death, the air boiled. The raindrops evaporated before ever reaching the ground, forming thick mists of steam for miles in every direction. And in the center of this wave of heat, Hiei screamed in denial—screamed and screamed until Mukuro punched him in the face and told him to snap out of it._

_But he couldn't. He couldn't accept it. Yusuke was stronger than him, how could Yusuke die before him? Yusuke was supposed to survive. Some part of Hiei had even believed Yusuke would live forever._

_But it turned out that after everything was said and done, Yusuke was only human._

* * *

By the time Hiei returned to the camp, most of the troops were dragging dead bodies onto wooden pallets. Hiei's eyes trailed idly over the makeshift funerary pyres.

"You. Do we have a body count yet?" Hiei asked the nearest of the troops, a healer. Hiei thought this one's name was Tsukimaru, but he couldn't be sure.

"We have twelve here," the healer pointed, "ten on that one, and—" Tsukimaru trailed off as one of his comrades pushed a cart toward a pyre and dumped the three bodies it held. His eyes dimmed sadly. "There's more coming in every minute."

"No survivors, then," Hiei presumed. The healer brightened somewhat.

"We've found about a dozen so far. It's much better than last time." Last time, of course, referring to the mountains of ash they had found at the previous camp. Tsukimaru smiled and pointed one finger over his shoulder. "They're out that way. A few of them wanted to talk to you—to thank you."

Hiei's face remained blank. He didn't want to talk to anyone, period. He loathed the victims' emotional thank-yous even more than he loathed his own soldiers' tedious requests for orders. But, it would be bad for troop morale if he didn't go. Sighing through his nose, Hiei headed in the direction the healer had pointed out.

* * *

"_Mr. Hiei…" Soft red eyes flickered up to Hiei's face, then back down to the bouquet of white lilies. "Do you believe that love can transcend death?"_

_Hiei was too lethargic to try to make sense of her question. "Kuwabara is dead. Would you dote upon his rotting corpse?"_

"_That's not what I mean."_

"_Then what do you mean?"_

"_I mean… Does __**he**__ still love __**me**__?"_

* * *

At the back of the camp, a fire was crackling away—not for cremation, but for cooking. There was a large pot hanging over it, and the sweet smell of rice was beginning to waft through the air. Someone had set up a picnic table, its cheery connotations jarring amidst the death and destruction. Around the table were the survivors, mostly women and a handful of men, though it was hard to tell the difference between them. They were all skeletal, clothed in the same ill-fitting rags, and their heads were starkly shaven.

"Here, have some," said one of the soldiers, a handsome human who had joined the war effort just to be near his _true love_, Tsukimaru. Hiei frowned when he saw that the soldier was offering up a strip of dried meat from his own rucksack. This war was far from easy on their resources, and meat that wasn't human was hard to come by. Hiei's frown deepened as a man's bony hand reached out to accept the meat.

"Don't waste that," Hiei said coldly. "There isn't enough to spare."

The man recoiled, looking as if he'd been struck, and the soldier looked at Hiei in exasperation.

"Hiei, you can't expect me to—" the soldier started, but another voice cut in.

"No, he is right. Soldiers need the sustenance from meat so they can be strong and fight. We do not have the same need for it." Hiei blinked, distantly surprised by this voice of reason. He looked around, trying to see who had spoken, but he couldn't figure out who it was. "If you have any fruit, or vegetables…? Those will be more than enough for us."

Hiei finally managed to pinpoint the source of the voice. It was a scrap of a child leaning against one of the women's shoulders. Its eyes were closed with sheer exhaustion, yet it looked somewhat less gaunt than the others. Hiei had seen that before—selfless adults skimping on meals so the younger ones could have more to eat. He had also seen selfish adults steal that precious food away. Desperate times truly brought out the best and the worst in people.

Hiei gave the child a piercing stare, but the kid didn't seem to notice at all. Finally, Hiei sent a look at the soldier.

"Well?"

"Oh! Um…" The soldier put the meat back in his rucksack and started digging around. "I've got this." A single raw carrot and a handful of dried beans. "It's not much…" But he handed them to the man anyway.

To the surprise of Hiei and the soldier, the man promptly passed the food along. It changed hands five times before finally reaching the woman who held the child.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked. The child's brows knitted painfully, but it nodded and slowly pulled away.

"I'll be fine."

The humans all watched, offering kind words of support as the child bit into the carrot. Its face twisted—it chewed, made a valiant effort to swallow—and then a loud gurgle filled the air and the kid whimpered, pressing the back of its hand to its mouth to keep from crying out. Hiei could practically track the movement of that bite of food all the way through the child's digestive tract. The kid forced down several more bites of the orange vegetable before finally nodding. Getting up from the bench, the child went and kneeled in the dirt, digging a hole with dirtied fingernails and burying the beans and the remainder of the carrot.

"What are you doing?" the soldier asked curiously.

That earned a small, weak smile from the child.

"I'm solving our food problem."

At once, Hiei felt a shift of energy that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The child placed its hand on the ground above the buried vegetables and pushed its impossibly weak energy out. Within seconds, dozens of green tendrils were shooting up out of the earth, hundreds of green leaves and perfect little beans forming along the rising stalks. When the plants were fully grown, the child raised its hand from the ground and collapsed onto its side.

The humans were out of their seats in a flash.

"It's okay," one of the women was saying as she cradled the child against her chest, "you rest now."

"You did a great job. Look at all this, you've saved us," said a man, laying a fatherly hand on the child's shoulder.

The child twitched and attempted to raise its head. "'s not enough…"

"It's more than enough," the woman said firmly.

Hiei stared at the scene for a moment, speechless. Then, with only a flap of his cloak to signal his movement, Hiei was kneeling in front of the child and gripping it by its frightfully thin shoulders.

"What is your name?" Hiei demanded, his voice rumbling with power. The child whimpered, and Hiei shook it in frustration. "_What is your name?_ Tell me!"

"He's too weak," the woman said, her eyes as fierce and protective as a mother's. "Ibuki gets like this after he makes plants grow. He needs rest."

Hiei glared at the woman. Then, without further ado, he ripped the child from her arms and lifted him into a bridal-style carry.

"Then the boy will rest with me." The woman looked like she was going to protest, but Hiei glared her into submission. "Are you honestly going to complain? We saved you. Is this how you show your gratitude?"

The woman looked utterly torn. She raised her hand as if to reach out for the child.

"Please… Please don't hurt him," she begged.

Hiei narrowed his eyes and walked away, making no promises. He carried the boy, Ibuki, all the way to the patch of land where his servant imp had set up his tent. The imp opened his mouth to greet Hiei, but he faltered upon seeing that his master wasn't alone. He eyed the boy in Hiei's arms with a look of unease.

"Erm… Should I…?"

Hiei sent a contemptuous look at his servant. Flinching, the imp hastily left. Sneering at the sheer cowardice, Hiei went to the soft bedroll spread out on the ground. He kneeled so he could lay the boy down.

He was vaguely surprised when he found himself leaning over the boy, propped up with his hands on either side of his head. The position had seemed innocent enough when he'd placed the boy here, but now his fingers twitched slightly, muscle memory telling them that this was the time to brush through long strands of hair. But there was no hair to play with, so Hiei left his hands where they were and simply stared at the boy. Pretty mouth, delicate nose, fine eyebrows. Young, but not so young as Hiei first thought—there was a mature facial structure starting to emerge despite his unhealthy thinness.

Blinking slowly, tilting his head a little to the side, Hiei studied the boy. Pretty, he decided. He would be even prettier with some color to his cheeks. A blush… Unconsciously, Hiei's lips parted and his tongue slipped out to wet them. He closed his eyes and leaned in.

His lips touched the boy's slowly at first—an experiment to see if it was as good as it had been so long ago. In some ways it was disappointing, the lips beneath him dry and unresponsive, but it had been years since he'd done this and it did feel good to break the long spell. He deepened the kiss, tongue moistening the boy's parched lips before delving into sweet warmth. Groaning as he thought of other things he had long forgone, Hiei covered the boy's body with his own. Hiei's mouth moved from the boy's lips and down his jaw and neck, kissing and sucking and biting and licking. Grunting hoarsely, drunk on desire, he slid his hand down to unfasten his belt…

Hiei had already unclothed the boy and positioned himself when he felt hands falling on his shoulders. The boy, gaining some level of consciousness, made a faint whine in the back of his throat.

"Please," the boy whispered.

There was no way to know if he was pleading for Hiei to stop or to keep going. His eyes were flickering, disoriented, and the pressure from his hands was so weak that Hiei couldn't tell if the boy was trying to draw him near or push him away.

Frankly, he didn't care which it was.

* * *

_Not many people knew it, but there was a moon in the sky above the demon world._

_The storm clouds that raged through the atmosphere meant that Sokai was rarely seen, but it was there nonetheless, a shining, celestial object hovering in the peaceful black just beyond the cloud battle. And on the rare calm night, the clouds would part and that beautiful orb would send its light down to the wild lands below._

_In a cold and snow-specked forest, Hiei crouched down and shook his partner's shoulder. Green eyes opened, reflecting the moonlight in a way that made Hiei's breath catch._

"_Is it my watch already?" Kurama murmured, blinking blearily. His eyes went wide when he saw the light shining on the snow, and he turned his eyes to the sky with a small, delighted smile. "Oh my… I haven't seen that in a while. What a rare pleasure… Thank you for waking me." He glanced at Hiei and paused when he saw the look on his face. Confusion formed a small crease in his brow. "Hiei? What is it?"_

_Hiei licked his lips, opening his mouth in the hope that a good explanation for his staring would just come tumbling out on its own. But no words came. Embarrassed, he closed his mouth and started to pull away._

_Kurama gripped his arm._

"_Hiei…" Understanding filled Kurama's eyes, making them somehow dark and bright all at once. Hiei felt his body turn hot at the sight. And without another word, Kurama leaned up and kissed Hiei, warm and tender as the lovemaking soon to come._

* * *

Ibuki woke feeling worse than usual. Not just that his stomach was raw, not just that his head was pounding and his limbs were tingling from lack of nourishment. There was an ache in his body. It wasn't unfamiliar—that one demon had treated him to this new kind of torment months ago, and two of his comrades had joined in sometime later—but this ache was both lesser and deeper, somehow. It took a minute for Ibuki to remember what had happened.

When he did dredge up the memory, his insides went hollow. Rough, grasping, desperate hands on his body, like the hands of a starving man. Starving for something other than food, and perhaps he should be grateful for that. Ibuki had seen other humans in their prison eaten alive by hungry demons. At least this one had left him with all his limbs.

Sighing, Ibuki rolled over onto his other side. He blinked when he saw a bowl of rice, beans, and a thick strip of dried meat laid out on a tray beside him. A peace offering. Some stubborn part of him wanted to reject it, but the worrying tingle in his fingers told him that another fainting fit was imminent if he didn't eat soon. Growling, frustrated by his own weakness, Ibuki reached out to take a handful of the beans and shove them into his mouth. A slave to his own appetite… He was no different from a full-blooded demon in that regard.

After he had eaten his fill, Ibuki looked around for his clothes, but they were nowhere to be found. He was verging on anger by the time the tent flap opened. Scrambling back to the bedroll, he pulled the top part around himself in hopes of hiding his nakedness.

The demon from earlier looked back at him with dull red eyes.

"Nice to see you up and about," the demon said. "And you're eating better, too. Good." Ibuki stared up at him, disconcerted. When he had last seen this demon he had been overwhelming, the very embodiment of fire and lust. Now Ibuki couldn't read any emotion in his face at all.

The demon shifted his arms, and Ibuki's eyes snapped down to them instinctively. He held a basin of water and a bundle of undyed muslin. The demon walked forward, and Ibuki shrank back, but the demon just kneeled down and placed the basin in front of him.

"You'll want to wash up. Here—" The demon patted the bundle of cloth. "Some real clothes for you. Put them on when you're ready."

The demon rose to his feet, walking toward the tent flap.

"Wait," Ibuki said. The demon stopped, and Ibuki frowned at his turned back before bowing his head. "I… I didn't thank you properly, for rescuing us. You saved our lives, and I truly am grateful." His lips twisted in a slight grimace, but he pressed on. "So… I guess if you want to use my body, it is your right to do so."

The demon glanced over his shoulder, staring at Ibuki out of the corner of his eye. Then he looked away, his shoulders stiff.

"…Would you make that offer to your parents, too?" the demon asked. "They brought you into this world. They gave you life to begin with. If owing your life to someone means they can do whatever they want to you, then by that logic, your mummy and daddy should be allowed to use you as a toy—and all they had to do to earn your unfailing obedience was fuck each other." The demon glanced over his shoulder, his eyes as cold and hard as ice. "If someone does something for their own benefit, and by some coincidence it just happens to benefit you as well, you don't owe them anything. So learn some self-respect and stop martyring yourself."

"I'm not martyring myself," Ibuki said. "You _did_ rescue us, I _do_ owe you, and I have no other way of repaying that debt. So if my body is something you want, you're free to take it. It isn't worth much to me anyway."

The demon cursed and left without another word. Ibuki stared after him, confusion on his face. What had that been about?

Not sure what to make of the exchange, Ibuki instead turned his attention to the basin and the clothes laid out before him. Curious despite himself, he touched the cream-colored muslin. It was clean and soft and smelled faintly of a foreign flower, and when Ibuki lifted the shift up to admire it, a dried bloom fell from the folds. Gathering it in his hand, he pushed just a little bit of energy through the spiked stem and watched as brown turned to green and black turned to red. His eyes marveled at how the dead bud transformed, spreading voluptuous red petals. _How beautiful,_ Ibuki thought. _What is your name, then?_

* * *

Hiei stalked from the tent as fast as he discreetly could, not caring where his feet took him as long as it was away from that boy.

He didn't know what the hell was wrong with him. Ibuki had been right, hadn't he? The rules of their world were clear. Hiei had saved the boy's life, so he was entitled to do whatever he wanted with him now. So why… Why did the memory of what he'd done make his skin crawl? Why did Hiei feel so terrible when he thought of that warm body writhing weakly beneath his own, of those wonderful, breathless little gasps, of those slender hands gripping his shoulders? Hiei took in a sharp breath, moving his hand to cover his mouth as he walked faster. It had felt good when he'd done it, so why did it feel bad now? Hiei had every right. And he had been gentle with the boy, far gentler than most demons would have been. Ibuki didn't seem too shaken up about it, either.

And yet, despite all of that, Hiei could remember a time when he couldn't have imagined taking such a young lover so abruptly. When he couldn't even conceive of…raping…a _child_…

Hiei stumbled to the nearest tree, propping himself against it with one hand and using the other to cover his mouth. He started to cough, started to feel his lungs ache as they were cut off from air, started to feel bile rising in the back of his mouth. That _wasn't_ what he'd done. It _wasn't_ rape if he'd earned the right, and the boy had to be in his early teens, well above the legal age. Ibuki hadn't struggled during the act, hadn't said no or given any indication that he didn't want it. He had even told Hiei, after the fact, that he was fine with it.

So why did Hiei feel like he had done something unforgivable?

"You all right?"

Hiei looked up sharply, shocked to see a glint of white hair among the tree's branches. How long had he been standing here, unaware of his second-in-command's presence? If it had been an enemy Hiei could have been killed for his lack of attentiveness. Now _that_ was unforgivable.

The white-haired demon jumped down from his tree branch, landed neatly on the ground, and gave Hiei a concerned look. Hiei cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"I'm fine," he said, attempting a return to his usual monotone.

"You sure looked like it," the pale demon said casually. "What's on your mind? Come on… You can tell your old pal Haku!"

"I said I'm fine!" Hiei snapped.

The demon, evidently named Haku, shrugged. "Okay, if you say so." Haku started to walk away, but he tossed one final remark over his shoulder. "By the way, Kentaro's got a message for you. He said you're a son of a bitch and if you hurt that kid, he's not gonna forgive you. Just so you know."

Hiei frowned as he watched Haku go. Somehow, this all felt familiar.

* * *

"_Yo, Hiei! What are you doing here?" Yusuke called, waving as he approached the tree in the temple courtyard. He paused when he saw the way Hiei's lips pressed together. "Whoa, are you all right?"_

"_I slept with Kurama."_

"_Oh." Yusuke blinked. "Well hot damn, it's about time. So? What's the problem?"_

"_He says he loves me."_

"…_You're gonna have to help me out a little here."_

"_But he says he can't uphold his family name with me." Hiei stared up at Yusuke, who was suddenly looking ill at ease. "What the hell does that mean? What is a family name?" In the demon world you only had one name, your own. Hiei. Kurama. Demons got along just fine without family names, so why was it so important to Kurama—rather, to Shuichi Minamino? And why did it make Yusuke look at him with such pity?_

"_Hiei… A family name is something your parents give you when you're born. If you're a guy, it stays with you for your entire life. If you're a girl, it changes when you get married. It shows everyone where your loyalty lies: with your family."_

_Hiei stared. Given to you by your parents… Kurama's human mother and father had given him the name Minamino at birth. And to uphold it, Kurama had to pass the name on. He had to have children. Hiei bowed his head, smiling darkly. Kurama was choosing his mother, his family, over everything else. Because that's where his loyalties lay. That's where his loyalties had always lain._

"_Are you okay?" Yusuke asked, looking worried as Hiei let out a soft chuckle._

"_That son of a bitch."_

* * *

Night fell, and Hiei returned to find the pyres burning away. Someone somewhere was ringing a bell, and most of the humans could be found kneeling in front of the fires, crying quietly and murmuring prayers into their folded hands. He didn't see Ibuki among them, though. Worry settling in the pit of his stomach, Hiei went back to his tent. Ibuki was still there, clean and clothed, sitting on the bed and examining something in his hand.

"You don't have to stay in here, you know. You're free to walk around," Hiei said. He wondered if he should have told him this sooner. Would Ibuki hesitate to do things he wasn't ordered to do? Some of Hiei's troops had that problem, but Ibuki hadn't struck him as particularly shy or indecisive.

"I did," Ibuki said calmly, laying Hiei's fears to rest. "I came back." Which brought up all sorts of new questions (who the hell would return to their rapist's bed?), but the boy held up his hand before Hiei could ask. "I've never seen a flower like this before. What plant does it come from?"

Hiei moved forward to get a better look. He could feel his face change to an expression of surprise, and his hands reached out to take the flower almost without his bidding.

"Where did you get this?" Hiei asked softly.

"It was in the clothes you gave me. Thank you, by the way. They're lovely." Ibuki smoothed his hands over the front of his shift, then looked back up at Hiei. "So… The flower…?"

Hiei shrugged. "It's called a rose. They come from a land far away. I'd forgotten it was there…" He lifted the flower to his nose, inhaling deeply. His lips trembled and his eyes fell shut as he breathed in the heady perfume. Hiei had kept those clothes in his own trunk, ignored, catching their scent only when he was searching for something else. But the smell of the clothes was old, fading. He hadn't realized just how old until now. How long had it been since he'd last seen Kurama? Decades, at least. Decades since they had lain in that forest and basked in the winter moonlight. Decades since they had touched each other…

"It does smell nice," Ibuki was saying, caught up in his own thoughts, "and they're pretty, too. I'd like to make more of them if that's—" Ibuki shut his mouth when he saw the wet tracks down Hiei's cheeks. "Are you all right…?"

Hiei sniffed and swallowed thickly, rubbing his mouth with the back of his fist.

"I'm fine," he said gruffly. He shoved the rose back toward Ibuki, who took it with a bewildered look on his face. "Do as you like with it. It's yours now."

"Thank you," Ibuki murmured.

"And stop saying thank you. Just…" Hiei raked a hand through his hair, frustrated. "Just stop it. I have done nothing you should be thanking me for."

Hiei paced to the other side of the tent and lay down on the ground, arms crossed tight over his chest. His own bed was probably the most comfortable in a twenty mile radius, but he didn't want to ask Ibuki to leave it and the thought of sharing the bed with him made Hiei's stomach lurch. Whether he had the right to sleep with the boy wasn't an issue anymore. His conscience wouldn't let him. He would rather lay in the dirt than dirty his honor again.

A shudder ran through him when a body curled up behind him.

"What are you doing? You should take the bed, it's softer than the ground," Hiei said, a note of protest in his voice.

"Perhaps it is," the boy answered. He wrapped a thin arm around Hiei's waist and laid his weary head on Hiei's bicep. "But you're warmer."

Hiei sucked in a breath, keeping perfectly still. If he stopped moving, he could pretend he had stopped thinking too. And then he wouldn't have to think about how Kurama had held him, just like this, after they made love.


End file.
